Guilt
by Kandascending
Summary: Just a short internal monologue of Carl's about Van Helsing, his guilt...and the reprecussions. The revised Edition!
1. Crimen

AN: This was originally written in 2004, shortly after Van Helsing was released. I finshed it with in a month, uploaded it, was pleased with the response it got, and left it at that. Now almost two years later I reread it and decided that it could do with a bit of revising. The first chapter kept jumping tense from past to present, which is fine when Carl's talking about the events of the past but not when he's talking of the present. So here it is, the new improved version of Guilt!

Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing, but I did win Carl in an auction so ha! . I don't do this for fun and profit, just fun. But hey, it's all good. Please don't sue me as it would be an inane endevor, I assure you. I've apparently taken a vow of poverty without my knowledge. This is my first Van Helsing story so be nice?

Guilt

By: The Cap'n

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Chapter 1: Crimen

Three months have passed. Three months and he still hasn't gotten over her lost. It's almost sad really. I didn't realize how close to two had become, how much Van Helsing cared for her. They had only known each other a few days, two weeks at the most, and yet here he is mopping about her death three months later. Not that I'm being vindictive or anything. I cared about Anna too, but he hasn't been himself since her death. It's almost as if the life has been sucked right out of him. In a way, I guess it was.

Van Helsing has never been much of a social creature. He's always had minimal contact with anyone, save the Cardinal and myself, and he's never considered the Cardinal anything more than a business associate, like his boss. Maybe he thinks the same about me. Maybe I'm nothing more than a business partner to him as well, but I like to think that maybe, just maybe I'm the closest thing he has to a friend. I make him sound pathetic don't I? I don't mean to. Lord knows he's not that. He's just never had much use for things like friends, or a social life. Never had much use, or time. Until Anna that is.

He thinks I didn't see it. That I had already left with Igor. We both saw their last few words spoken in this world. He kissed her, it was passionate. I may have only had one experience like that but trust me, I know when someone's serious. Van Helsing was serious about that kiss. I didn't think that there was a chance in hell we'd make it out of the castle alive, but him…he seemed to offer her so much in that kiss. I think he may have even left the service of the order for her, how he would've done that I have no idea, but I bet he was willing to try.

He was willing to offer her a whole new life, but in the end, it was he who ended hers. I had been unable to get across the bridge, it had been destroyed somewhere in the middle. Anna had tried to help me by taking the syringe the rest of the way but the final bride, Aleera, had attacked her. She had been about to bite the princess when I threw the silver stake Van Helsing had told me to use if we were too late. It pierced the vampires heart, my aim had been true. Aleera exploded in a cloud of dust and Anna was free to go on her way. The stake slammed into the stone near my head and I made my way across the bridge; praying that Anna made it to Van Helsing in time.

She did, but it was too late for her. I'm not sure what happened between them before I arrived, Anna must've lunged at him trying to get the syringe into him before the last stroke of midnight. He must've tackled her onto that couch and broken her neck. When I arrived to find him leaning over her, I thought that we had been too late. That what Van Helsing feared had come to pass, that he had become a full werewolf. I didn't want to kill Van Helsing, but if I didn't who knows what damage he would've done. So I pulled the silver stake out of my robes and lunged. My aim was true, I would've struck his heart if he hadn't turned around and grabbed my wrist.

I was never more terrified in my life then in those few seconds. My wrist is still bruised from the tightness of his grip. I thought for sure that he was going to kill me then go after the townspeople. The only solace I had was the fact that the thing that would kill me had once been a friend. He held my wrist even as he turned to face me, and I saw the syringe had been plunged into his chest and that it was empty. I breathed a sigh of relief when he let me go and turned back to Anna. I followed his gaze and found her staring back at me with dead, glassy eyes. It was a traumatizing moment to be sure, finding out she had been killed. Van Helsing took her into his arms and howled in anguish. It was truly a magnificent and sad sight. He turned back into his human form in mid-scream, still clutching the princess to her chest.

We left that morning with her body headed for the sea. She had asked me about the sea before. It was the one thing she had always wanted to see but couldn't, what with her family obligations. Van Helsing decided we would burn her on a pyre, next to the ocean, like the heathen kings of old. It was the least he could do for her after he killed her. So it was that the four of us (only two of us on the side of the living), Van Helsing, Anna, Frankenstein, and I, arrived at the cliffs of the sea. Van Helsing tore apart the carriage we had been using, making a raft for Frankenstein out of half of it and using the other to build the pyre.

I said a eulogy for her, and did her final rites while Van Helsing looked on, stonily. Then he set the pyre on fire and we watched the fire spread. The wind picked up and Van Helsing turned away. At first I thought he couldn't bear to see the woman he had come to love burning, but then I turned away to see if he was alright. It was a glorious sight that I beheld that day on the cliffs. There in the sky above us was Anna, no, it was Anna and all of her relatives. They were coming to thank us for finally allowing them entrance into heaven. It was God's gift to Van Helsing, the chance to say goodbye to her. I don't think he saw it that way though. If he did he wouldn't be the way he is now would he?

He blames himself for her death. He does penance everyday for her death. I don't think he's eaten well in the last three months. He's wasting away, I see it day by day. It's painful to watch. I thought he was stronger than this, smarter than this. He doesn't realize it's not his fault. It's never even occurred to him that it could be anybody else's. He doesn't realize it's actually my fault, I'm the reason Anna died. I was the one who was supposed to get him the antidote. I was the one who was entrusted with the task, but I let myself get distracted by the bridge. If I had been smarter I would've been able to make it across it. If I had just been smarter it would've been _me_ who Van Helsing killed, not her. It should've been me. Maybe that's why I let Anna go.

I'm not a field man, I don't look death in the face every day. I'm a bloody scientist! I shouldn't have been there. It wasn't my place. I'm a coward. I couldn't bring myself to face Van Helsing if I was unable to get the antidote to him on time. I couldn't stand staring him down as he was insane with the bloodlust of the werewolf. I would have frozen to the spot the moment I saw him, snarling in rage, standing over Dracula's dusty remains. He would've killed me and I didn't want to die; so I had let Anna take my place. Oh Lord, was I supposed to have died that day? Is it because of my selfishness that Van Helsing now suffers so? Forgive me, o Lord, for I have sinned. I let an innocent take my place in death. I am Sisyphus. I deserve eternal damnation for what I have done.

Anna, how can you ever forgive me? I let you take my place because I could not face death. It is my fault that you died at the hands of Van Helsing. I'd gladly trade my soul with yours if only to bring you back. It was a mistake, you shouldn't have died, how could I ever make it up to you? It's impossible. You're dead now. Oh Lord, what have I done? How am I ever going to pay for this sin against my friend? Van Helsing will never forgive me.

Then maybe Van Helsing is not to know. No, I can't do that to him. He's blaming himself. At this rate he'll get himself killed, I must put a stop to it. Yes, that is my penance to God, to Anna, to Van Helsing. Let him hate me if he wishes. I would sacrifice our friendship, if only to give him peace from her ghost. It is my duty. I must tell Van Helsing.

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AN: Well how didja like it? Was it worth your time? Do you wish to harm me severely? Was Carl IC? Oo Well? Review and let me know!

Also, Crimen, the chapter title, means Guilt in Latin. It fits in well with the theme of Van Helsing, don't you think?


	2. Pugna

AN: This part isn't a monologue, but the last part will be. I just wanted the interaction between Carl and Van Helsing written in actual story form, and not told by the characters just yet. Damn this depressing plot that won't leave me be!

Pugna is Latin for Conflict.

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Chapter 2: Pugna

Van Helsing was in the small cell he had been given while he stayed in Rome. He was due to leave in the morning and was catching up on some much needed rest. Or at least, trying to. He lay on the shoddy bed the order called a cot and stared at the picture of Anna he held in one hand. He had had Carl find it for him shortly after their return from Transylvania and had carried it in his Brest pocket ever since. He missed the Romanian gypsy princess greatly, more with each passing day. Each passing day also built up his guilt over her death. It threatened to overwhelm him. Every time he ate he remembered her, he hadn't been able to drink any alcohol lest he remember their time in the windmill.

He had seen less and less of Carl in the three month since their return electing, instead, to spend whatever time he could in his cell, staring at her photo and running over in his mind the many different scenarios of Anna's death, each one portraying the many ways he could've saved her. He shouldn't have allowed her to come. He should've made her stay at her home. Shouldn't have even involved her. Then, maybe, she'd be alive right now. Looking at Carl now just drove home that Anna was never coming back.

A knock on his door broke him of his reverie. He grunted, giving whoever knocked permission to enter. Telling any of the numerous priests, Buddhist monks, or anyone of the other denominations that were running around, to go away just didn't work. They usually came in anyway with information, or a request to meet the Cardinal somewhere.

The door opened slowly and Carl's head peeped around the door, Van Helsing quickly shoved the picture under the pillow. The monk's blue eyes settled on him for a moment. "Oh good, you're here! I was hoping to talk to you about something."

The friar stood in the doorway looking sheepish and guilty, probably having seen his none to discreet disposal of the picture. Van Helsing watched him in silence for a moment or two, studying the blonde's looks. His face seemed worn, his eyes were red as if he'd been crying. His hair was a mess, but this was Carl and that was typical of the absent-minded Friar. The helmet contraption he usually wore when working was perched precariously under one arm the goggles bumping into his shoulder. Van Helsing finally sighed. "Are you going to come in and tell me what it is you want or just stand there all night?"

Carl seemed confused for a second then he jumped into action as he stepped father into the room and shut the door behind him. "Oh right! Sorry, I was just a bit distracted is all."

"I'm sure." Van Helsing replied sitting up and leaning over the edge of the bed. "And?"

Carl pursed his lips, looking undecided and nervous, both very Carlish reactions in these types of situations, which meant he brought bad news. Van Helsing frowned. "Don't tell me they want to send me out _now_…"

"No…no that's not it." Carl replied hastily, his eyes staring at the pillow where Anna's picture was hidden. "It's…well…I feel we need to discuss some things."

Van Helsing instantly grew suspicious, it wasn't like Carl to act so nervous and indecisive if he was going to discuss something. He was always more than ready to jump in and talk if the discussion involved something he knew a lot about, or he had an opinion on. That was obviously not the case here, whatever the friar had come to talk about was not something Van Helsing was going to enjoy. "Like what?"

"You know very well what!" Carl regained himself and snapped motioning to the pillow and it's hidden treasure. "You've been obsessing for three months now! She's dead, can't you accept that? She's dead and she's never coming back!" Suddenly, his eyes widened comically as his hand flew to his mouth. Van Helsing straightened up, giving the friar a scathing glare. Carl, smartly, backpedaled toward the door muttering apologies. "I-I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean it to sound like that…"

He sounded frightened of what the hunter might do to him, and admittedly the brunet was envisioning several painful ways of killing Carl, but he'd never attempt any of them. Carl was too good a person to do that to, he just had a problem with being too blunt some times. Well that and assuming you were stupid, he had a bad habit of doing that too. Seeing as how he hadn't yet leapt off the bed to strangle the life out of him, the friar straightened up and tried again. "Wh-what I meant to say was, you've been mourning her for three months now…don't you think it's time to move on?"

That wasn't much better phrased but it would have to do. Van Helsing sighed deeply, having known that Carl would eventually come to him for this very purpose. He was being rather obvious about his loss of Anna, but it was his fault she died. It was because he couldn't control the werewolf that she was killed. It was his fault, he was a murderer after all.

"It wasn't your fault you know." Carl said not daring to move from his place against the wall just yet.

"Yes it was." Van Helsing replied dully. "If I had just been able to control the werewolf inside of me for a few more seconds she would've lived."

"You couldn't have controlled it." Carl argued receiving another look, one he ignored this time. "In the thousands of years of recorded history no one has been able to control the werewolf past the final stroke of midnight on their first transformation. What makes you think that you're any different?"

Van Helsing didn't reply, couldn't really, and Carl pressed his advantage taking a step forward. "Did it ever occur to you that it might have been someone else's fault entirely?"

"Like whose?" Van Helsing eyed the blonde, who decided to look away from him at that moment.

"Mine." The reply was a barely audible whisper mumbled into the man's shoulder. Only because Van Helsing's hearing was sharper than average now was he able to pick it up. He stared open mouthed at the inventor as he slowly peeked at him out of the corner of his eye. "It's my fault Anna died."

"H-how-?" Van Helsing sputtered at a loss for words. Carl blamed himself for her death? But it couldn't have been his fault. He wasn't there when Anna died, he arrived after. How, then, could it be his fault?

"I was the one who should've died." Carl was looking away from him again, but the tears were still clearly heard in his voice. "It should've been me."

"Carl!" Van Helsing's eyes were wide, his voice disbelieving. "What are you saying?"

"I was selfish." Carl continued almost ignoring the other man. "I couldn't face death, not like that, not from you. So…so I let Anna take my place. I should've been the one to take the syringe to you but I let Anna do it, so I wouldn't be killed by you. I let an innocent die because I didn't want to. For the love of God Van Helsing, I'm not a field man! I don't face death everyday like you. Thinking that I might actually die, it just…it frightened me. I'm a _scientist_ for chrissake, how could I possibly hope to stand up to a werewolf, alone and armed with only a syringe? Hope the needle was silver and that you were slow? No, I let myself get distracted by that bridge on purpose. I didn't want to face you, so I let Anna do it for me. I saved her life just to turn around and send her to her death. All because I couldn't bare to face you if I failed to get there on time. I couldn't bare the see the bloodlust in your eyes as you leapt at me to rip out my jugular with your teeth. I'm a coward. It's not your fault, Van Helsing, it's mine. I'm going to be damned for all eternity. It's my fault. Mine."

He stopped suddenly, sliding down the wall drained of all his anger. Van Helsing just stared at him in shock as the friar slowly crossed himself and began to mutter one of the many prayers he knew to himself. He had never realized Carl felt that way. He had never thought about it that way either. It _was_ Carl's fault, he could see that now. It was Carl's fault his love was dead. He glanced away from the form almost sobbing on the floor. It was Carl's fault he would never see Anna again.

"Out." He whispered quietly to the far wall. Carl glanced up mid-prayer looking scared. "Get out."

"I-" He started but Van Helsing cut him off.

"I said _get out _Carl." He left no room for argument and for a moment Carl looked stricken. Van Helsing glanced away unable to stand seeing the friar any more. Not without seeing her dead face floating before him.

"Alright…I'll go." Carl slowly stood up drawing the hunters gaze again. Their eyes met and Van Helsing saw how dead the friars eyes looked, they reminded him of hers, only a different. His voice was as dull as his glassy blue eyes. "You wish now that our places were switched don't you. That I had died and Anna lived."

It wasn't a question but a statement of the facts, Van Helsing didn't argue. Carl moved slowly, as if the movement pained him, opening the door and starting out. He stopped one hand on the knob, ready to close the door, and glanced back. "I should've died that day Van Helsing. Maybe it's God's will that what was started is finished. Goodbye…"

With that he left, slowly shutting the door as quietly as he had opened it. Van Helsing stared at the door for a long time before his gaze slowly drifted to the pillow. He slid his hand underneath and pulled the precious picture out again. He held it in both hands as he stared at it. She was looking back, not smiling, but looking directly into his soul. Boring deep until she knew all of his secrets. Only she would never know any of his secrets now and she'd never be able to share any of hers with him. Because Carl was a coward, because he couldn't face death.

_It wasn't his place. _An inner voice argued with him. _He couldn't be expected to react to the situation the same as you, it was his first time being exposed to something like that._

Yes, but because of his inexperience Anna died. Van Helsing argued back staring fixedly at the picture. It was because of Carl's cowardice that he lost his one chance of love.

_And it's because of you're anger that you're about to loose something else. _The voice responded and Van Helsing frowned, furrowing his brows. The voice sounded different than his own, but for the life of him he couldn't place it. _Does Carl's friendship mean so little to you, Mr. Van Helsing?_

Van Helsing stared at the picture. Friendship? Is that what friends did? Let the one true love of a man's life die to save their own hide? Is that a friend? If it was, then Van Helsing was sure of one thing, Carl's friendship didn't mean a damn thing to him. Carl himself had said so, he wasn't worth being friends with. He was a coward.

_Did he not help you when it mattered? Was it not him who figured out how to defeat Dracula? Was he not prepared to risk his life to kill you, if you weren't cured in time? Is he really a coward?_

Van Helsing frowned wishing the inner voice would just shut the hell up. He laid himself back on the bed placing the picture underneath the pillow again. He blew out the candle that lit the room ready to go to sleep. The last thought the exhausted hunter had was a bit cruel. He prayed that Carl would be damned for all eternity.

_What happens if he dies?_ The voice pestered and Van Helsing groaned, rolling over. _How would you feel if he dies tonight, eh? You'd like that wouldn't you? To have the last remaining link between you and your humanity severed. Don't you remember how good it felt to be able to smile so freely around him? To be able to tease him, and not risk being reprimanded?_

"I don't care anymore." Van Helsing muttered into the pillow.


	3. Dolor

AN: Yea! Van Helsing's monologue! Woohoo…he's a stubborn bastard, but hey…that's what makes him so good at what he does. This is the second to last chapter of this short story that I originally thought was a one-shot that came out in place of my comedy…Damnit. Ah well, read and review.

Dolor in Latin means grief.

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Chapter 3: Dolor 

Damnit! It's happening again. I'm losing another person I care about. No one is sure when exactly the accident occurred, but sometime during the night, on one of the days I was out on assignment, the invention Carl had been working on backfired. One of the sharper points of the weapon managed to lodge itself in his stomach. He had been thrown into the wall by the force of the explosion and knocked unconscious. He'd laid there bleeding unchecked for several hours, until one of the many inhabitants of the catacombs under the Basilica noticed the light still on and decided to look in on their absent-minded resident genius. That was at seven in the morning. He'd lost a substantial amount of blood and no one is sure if he's going to survive.

If he follows through with our last conversation, he won't. It wasn't what you'd call an argument. It was, now that I think about it, him coming to tell me not to blame myself. But Carl, being Carl, didn't know how and took his own guilt as a way to do it. He was saying: "Don't blame yourself Van Helsing, if needs be, blame me, but don't blame yourself.". I just didn't see it that way at the time. He explained to me what had happened on the bridge, that he had purposely let Anna go to her death because he was too scared to. It had made perfect since at the time. It wasn't my fault, _Carl_ was the one to kill Anna, not me. He was the one who deserved my blame and anger.

So I had told him to go away, I never wanted to see him again. I didn't want his friendship anymore, he had betrayed me. It should've been him that I killed, not her. He was a coward who couldn't face a true battle. I thought that if he were to die I wouldn't care, I'd cheer, at least then he would've paid for his crime. That I wouldn't care if he was eternally damned for her death. At least when I died, if I was truly doing God's work, I'd be reunited with Anna in heaven. The stricken look on his face as I told him to go, was almost unbearable, but he was the one who stole my Anna from me. I wished him death and eternal damnation in my dreams. That was a month ago. We hadn't seen much of each other since. It was strictly business when we had to interact, but I found myself watching the friar when we were talking weapons, and when I was discussing things with Cardinal Jinette.

He was more withdrawn, he rarely did more than mutter to anybody else, except when he was working on an invention that needed power. The other workers began talking among themselves of his sudden reclusive-ness, and some heralded it as a respite from the chaos he invariably brought with him. For awhile I agreed, I had managed to talk myself into hating him. I was glad he was suffering for what he had done to Anna, and to me. He deserved everything he got. I didn't care that he had stopped coming to meals, or that he was spending less and less time at his workstation while others were there, and more time in a private space or his room. I didn't care what happened to him, he could die if he wanted.

Now he's lying on the cot before me, pale and shivering on deaths door. Bloody bandages wrapped around his lower abdomen and a purplish bruise decorating his cheek from where he hit the wall. He was flushed with sweat as he fought a fever that had come on him, obviously whatever chemical had been on the metal had worked it's way into his system. Some of the others are working on figuring out what chemical that was, and how to counteract it. I don't think they'll make it. I think it's already too late. Carl's going to die, and that scares me.

I thought I wouldn't feel anything for him when he passed. I was so sure that his death wouldn't bring me anything but the close of a chapter of my life. Now that I'm actually faced with the possibility of it, all the hatred I had been feeling for him for the past month dissipated. I was out of town when the accident occurred but the moment Cardinal Jinette informed me of it, I was floored. The moment he told me I was free for the rest of the week I found my way to his room. When I entered and saw the usually vibrant and talkative man lying prone, pale and silent on his dingy little coat, I almost broke down in tears. For a second I feared he was already dead. Then he groaned and I knew he was barely clinging on.

I've remained by his side for three days now. He has been getting weaker and weaker, but hasn't yet died. It's as if he's waiting for me to figure something out. It's as if he and that inner voice are in league to get me to have some form of epiphany. The voice has been pestering me since the night of the argument, claiming I was making a big mistake. I had ignored it, pushing it off as a bad attempt at a conscience. I wasn't supposed to feel sorry for Carl, I wasn't supposed to feel bad about what I had done to him, so I had forced the voice into the back of my mind. It came back strong the moment I was told of the accident.

_I warned you Van Helsing. _It had mocked me, almost familiarly. _I warned you of what was going to happen. I told you you'd lose him, and now you have. I told you you'd realize you care about him, but it's come too late._

No, I can't lose him, not now. I have to tell him, tell him what I've learned in these three days. It's taken the near death of my closest friend for me to realize it. I've been a fool, I've been trying to find the person to blame for her death for four months now. First myself, then Carl. I didn't think anyone knew how I felt, no one could possibly know. I didn't see that Carl was taking this just as badly. He's been blaming himself for her death almost as much as I was blaming myself. When he came to me that night, he was hoping to help me with my guilt, but also reaching out for help for himself. He wanted help and I pushed him away. He wanted someone to lessen then pain, like I did, and I shoved him away. Why? Because I couldn't stop mourning my lost love.

I was too wrapped in my own vague emotions, I had thought that I had it so bad. I didn't even realize that Carl, too, might have been mourning. He was always so talkative, I guess I thought he'd tell me how he felt outright. I didn't realize I'd been pushing him away. That maybe why I found it so easy to switch the blame and anger to him, even when he didn't deserve it. I realize now how foolish I was, but I couldn't help it. Anna was dear to me, she was perhaps the first person I ever truly loved. That might not be true, I may have had a love before I lost my memory, but it didn't feel like I'd ever felt the way I felt when I kissed Anna. I was willing to abandon my life's work to be with her, to disappear after the battle with Dracula, and live a peaceful life full of children to be with her. Then that dream was cut short by my own hands.

Yet it wasn't my fault. I realize that now. It wasn't Carl's either, though it may be too late for me to tell him that. It was no one's fault, she died. It was her choice. She sacrificed herself to save me. I didn't see that until I saw Carl lying there, pale as death, on his cot, in that smoke filled room. It brought me back to Anna's funeral. It had been my decision to burn her body by the sea. It seemed proper, she had always wanted to see the sea, and now never would. We burned her on a funeral pyre, because burying her so near the ocean, she would've easily been uncovered. Besides, when Carl was cleaning her up for the funeral, he found several teeth marks along her side, I had gotten her with my fangs. That meant that, even if she died, her body may still come back as a werewolf. The only way we could prevent that was by burning her body. So we did, and as I watched I saw her face in the smoke. I didn't realize why she appeared to us that day. I didn't know she was giving me the chance to say goodbye.

It drives home why some call me murderer. Yet I know better than anyone that I am. It's me who sees those monsters I slay when they revert back to those they once were. It's me left out there when the crowd gathers around. It's me who is blamed for the death of one who had died long before. I've often found myself staring down at a man who I've just killed wondering what his name was, whether he was truly evil at heart. What might have happened to him that he became a servant of evil so far from home. I'm the one who bares the sins of their deaths.

Now I have three more sins to bare. The last remaining children of the Valerious line, Anna and Velken, and now my faithful friar friend. He had been throwing himself more and more into his work, sleeping less, and eating less, and it was all because of me. I told him to go away, and in a way he was. He was slipping away into his own little world. Many of the others began complaining of Carl talking to himself all the time and becoming more paranoid. He was slipping beyond the shores of sanity, beyond the pain and torment I had caused him. He was slipping away from me mentally. And now his body is doing the same. I cling to his pale hand, praying like I've never prayed before that he'll wake up.

Carl, you need to wake up. I've got to tell you what I've learned. It's not your fault! I don't blame you any more Carl, I was wrong to do so in the first place. Please Carl, you can't die on me now. If you die I'll be a true murderer. I couldn't bare it if you died. Carl, you must get through this, you must survive. Who else is going to help me on my missions? You know the Cardinal was thinking of letting you go with me on missions more often don't you? He realizes what a great team we made in Transylvania. Please Carl, listen to me, you have to survive. If you die before I can apologize, I'll never forgive myself. If you die now, I'll live with your death on my head for the rest of my life. Please Carl, wake up.

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I love you Carl. Not in the way I loved Anna, but the way Anna loved her brother. I'd die for you my friend. I need to see your smiling face again, I need to hear you prattle on about some new invention of yours. I need you to come back to me. I forgive you Carl. I forgive you. You weren't supposed to die that day, my friend. You aren't a coward either. You're a great hero, you just don't realize it.

You were willing to kill me if I wasn't cured in time. You didn't want to do it but you knew you had to. That takes courage. You were willing to stand up to a fully transformed werewolf in bloodlust to make sure I didn't kill anyone. If that's not courage I don't know what is. The fact you even came through the mirror shows your courage. You aren't a coward, nor are you to blame for anything that happened in the castle. Please Carl, you've got to pull through this. Don't die on me now, you're my last link to humanity, you're my friend. You're what keeps me sane, Carl. If you die, I might just lose it completely. Please Carl, don't die. Please.

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AN: Well how'd ya like? I think Van Helsing was a bit OOC but it's been awhile since I saw the movie last. I must reread the book at some point. Yes I own the book, fear me and my geekness. goes off to munch the flowers. For the record, I was listening to that sad theme from FFX while writing parts of this. Also Requiem for a Dream, and parts of the VH soundtrack. The music really does help with setting a mood in your mind. 


	4. Venia

AN: Alright so I lied. Shortly after finishing Van Helsing's monologue I started to write this. But then I saved it, unfinished, to the wrong bloody folder and never looked at it again. Then I found it while looking for a picture I had saved and was like "Hey…might as well finish it, people are demanding it!" and well here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

Venia, in Latin, means forgiveness.

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Chapter 4: Venia 

It was almost as if he was floating. That was the only way Carl could describe the feeling he was having. He was floating in a sea of nothingness. No, not nothingness, darkness. He was surrounded by a void of black. He felt as if he should know where he was yet he didn't have the faintest idea, his thoughts were all muddled up. He wasn't sure how long he had been floating but he had the feeling it had been a long time since he was last conscious. He was pretty sure that he was unconscious anyway, there was nothing in the physical world that was like this…place. The last thing he clearly remembered was that "chat" with Van Helsing and then working on his current project at the lab. He realized a long time had passed between the two events but he couldn't seem to grasp the other memories. Whatever had landed him in this void had happened because of those two events. Now if only he could remember what had taken place…

_'Carl…you've got to wake up.' _A voice filtered through the darkness. Carl looked around frantically, it was a voice he recognized. It was Van Helsing. W hy would Van Helsing care if he woke up or not? It made no sense. _'Please Carl, listen to me, you have to survive. If you die before I can apologize, I'll never forgive myself. If you die now, I'll live with your death on my head for the rest of my life. Please Carl, wake up_.'

Van Helsing was rambling on about something, about forgiveness. At first the meaning of his words was lost on the friar. His mind was still foggy, actually it was getting foggier by the second. He was drifting down, further into the black sea that surrounded him. Van Helsing's voice was fading away and soon he lost it altogether. Carl knew that he had to get back to the voice, back to Van Helsing. What the hunter was saying was important. If he lost the voice he felt that he would never get out of this abyss. He began kicking and clawing, slowly swimming his way upward. Van Helsing's voice faded back into a dull drone.

_'…I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I love you Carl. Not in the way I loved Anna, but the way Anna loved her brother.' _Van Helsing's words stopped the friar in his place, and if there had been a discernable ground, he would've sat down on it, hard. Van Helsing thought of him as a brother? That was news to him. He worked his jaw a few times in shock, before he had sufficiently recovered his wits.

"Van…Helsing!" He shouted only to have his voice thrown back at him he recoiled in shock at how demonic he sounded. What was going on here? Was he in Purgatory? Or perhaps this was Hell. Where he could float for all eternity and hear Van Helsing say things he never would.

_'Please Carl, you've got to pull through this.' _Pull through what? What was it that had happened to him? Was he dead? Well that would certainly go with the Hell/Purgatory scenario. He knew for sure that he wasn't in Heaven. Heaven wouldn't torment him like this.

"Van Helsing…?" Carl whispered pulling his knees to his chest. They felt, wrong, somehow and when he glanced down and found a widening patch of grey scales forming on them he knew why. Dracula and his brides had scales like these. He was becoming a demon, it was one of his worst fears. He cried helplessly, unable to find a bright spot on the dismal horizon. "Help! Van Helsing!"

_'He can't help you now.' _A new voice joined Van Helsing's tear-filled voice. It was a feminine voice that he could have sworn he recognized, yet he could place it. _'He can only provide you a focal point with which to save yourself.'_

"Wh-what must I d-do?" Carl stuttered through the demonic voice he had acquired almost timidly, tears streaked his rapidly changing face. The voice laughed, it was an uplifting sound, surely this new voice couldn't be a demon.

_'Forgive yourself.' _Carl sputtered flailing his arms as he began his rapid downward descent again. This wasn't getting him anywhere, maybe this voice _was_ a demon. They were known for their trickery after all, why couldn't one pose as an angel to make you drop your guard. He cried out in pain as two monstrous batwings sprouted from his backside in an eruption of blood. _'Carl, you must forgive yourself. M-Anna's death wasn't your fault. It was her descision, her sacrifice. I thought you understood that.'_

"I do! I did!" Carl replied frantically, flapping the newly sprouted wings to keep himself from sinking any farther into the abysmal depths. His newfound vampiric strength did little to aid him. "Am I in Hell?"

Van Helsing's voice cut through before the new voice had a chance to reply. _'Don't die on me now, you're my last link to humanity, you're my friend. You're what keeps me sane, Carl. If you die, I might just lose it completely. Please Carl, don't die. Please.'_

Carl's eyes widened. Van Helsing, it was the _real_ Van Helsing that had been talking to him all this time. Carl began kicking for all his was worth, if he reached the bottom of this endless darkness, he knew there'd never be a chance to see Anna, or Van Helsing again. So he struggled for all he was worth, kicking and clawing his way upward, out of the blackness that surrounded him. A bright light appeared above him, and he made his way towards it.

"Plumbum mihi ut lux lucis , meus amices." He smiled as he whispered to Van Helsing, knowing the hunter wouldn't hear him, but comforted by the familiar Latin rolling over his tongue. The closer he came to the light the more he felt the vampire in him burn away, the changes slowly reverting themselves. His wings were shrinking, Van Helsing's voice getting stronger. He was climbing out of whatever pit of Hell he had been thrown into. He would see Van Helsing again. He felt himself pass through the light, then every thing went black.

The world seemed a lot more painful then the last time he had been there. He groaned, moving his head back and forth weakly, hoping to dispel the sick feeling that lingered there. He felt hot, and uncomfortable, it was as if his entire body was full of magma. The physical pain seemed centered around his abdomen, for what reason he was still uncertain. His eyes fluttered uselessly behind their lids, which refused to raise even the slightest inch. His whole body was slow to respond, sluggish. It was as if he had been lying down for a long time.

"Van Helsing…?" He managed to force out of a constricted throat, swollen, gummy tongue, and parched lips. He felt something at his side stir and tried to look in that direction, but his eyes wouldn't cooperate.

"Carl!" The voice was as hoarse as his own, it sounded as if the illustrious demon hunter had been doing some crying. Shedding tears over him? Maybe he was missing something.

"Wh-what happened?" He tried to pry open his eyes again, and was rewarded with a stab of pain as the bright light of the sun fell directly into his unprepared pupils. He winced in pain, closing his eyes again with a hiss. He felt Van Helsing stand and move quickly to the other side of his small cell, then he heard the sound of cloth rustling and the warmth on his face, the external warmth that marked the sun's influence, faded away. He tried opening his eyes again and found the dark light offered by the candle more than bright enough.

Van Helsing was standing over him looking more haggard than he had even after his defeat of Dracula and the accidental death of Anna. He didn't realize at first how easy it was for him to think of Anna's death as an accident. He knew now that it wasn't his fault, that is wasn't anyone's fault.

"Don't you remember?" Carl shook his head slowly, for fear of reigniting the pain that had subsided to a dull ache. "There was an accident in the lab, you've been unconscious for weeks now."

"And you've been with me the whole time." It wasn't a question, he could tell by the man's appearance and the disheveled blanket roll he had spied in the corner. Van Helsing could be quite stubborn, he hadn't left his side in…days it looked like.

"When they didn't pry me away for some mission or another." Van Helsing replied with a tired smile. Carl nodded returning the smile, which then turned into a frown. Van Helsing narrowed his eyes at the friar. "Is something wrong?"

"I…errr…that is I mean…well….ummm.." Carl tried to voice one of the many questions currently running through his mind, but he couldn't seem to grasp one long enough to force it into words. Van Helsing, used to seeing this, smiled and eased himself down into the chair, waiting paitently. "…Errr…Don't you hate me?"

That wasn't quite the question the hunter was expecting by the look of shock that quickly crossed his rugged features. "Hate you?"

Carl looked away guiltily. "Yes, I thought you hated me. Because of…you know…Anna…"

A flash of pain crossed the taller man's features but he quickly softened the look. "No, Carl. I don't hate you. That's why I've been waiting for you to wake up…to tell you that…"

"…I'm you're last link to sanity?" Carl blurted suddenly Van Helsing's eyes widened as he stared incredulously at the shorter man, working his jaw like a fish. "I heard you talking…it's what kept me rooted to this reality."

"Really? You heard me?" Van Helsing turned an intresting shade of pink that made the friar chuckle. "Everything?"

"Well…not everything." Carl conceited and the man in the chair let out a sudden breath, a wicked smile suddenly crossed Carl's face. "So you love me eh?"

The look on Van Helsing's face was priceless. He stammered for a while before he could make a fully coherent sentence. "Well…I mean….ummm…Not in that way?"

"Oh Van Helsing. I know what you're talking about." Carl smirked his mischievous smirk again before leaning forward to whisper confidentially into his ear. "I love you too, my friend. I love you too."

When he leaned back he could've sworn he saw a figure standing at the window. There was a brief flash of dark curls and a familiar smile, then it was gone. Carl stared agape at the spot where he had seen the apparition. Van Helsing seemed to go on alert and quickly turned to scan the room before looking back at the stunned friar. "Carl? Carl what is it?"

Carl shook himself to clear his head and gave the hunter an innocent. "It was nothing. Nothing. Just…a passing fancy is all."

The Real End

_Plumbum mihi ut lux lucis , meus amices _means "Lead me to the light, my friend."

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AN: Well…how'dya like it? I hope you did, it was a hard thing to write. Yes I like using Latin in my work now for some reason. Don't ask me. Anyway…Review!


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